Staged Sobriety Aphorisms

The servers have stopped smoking. We straighten our ties and adopt expressions of grave professional concern for the cameras.

We were screaming in the hallway ten minutes ago. Now, in the town hall meeting, we speak in slow, measured tones about ‘structural learnings.’

The panic has been carefully folded and placed in a drawer. The face we present to the shareholders is made of calm marble.

We do not mention who left the stove on. We only discuss our profound commitment to fire safety going forward. Look how solemn we are.

The crisis broke our hearts, but the mask we wear to the shareholders is flawless marble. We polish it daily so they never see the cracks beneath.

Fold the panic neatly and place it in the drawer. When the town hall meeting is over, we will open it again and let the quiet terror breathe.

The servers burned to the ground, but our ties were perfectly straight. The optical perfection of our grief almost made the loss worthwhile.

We file the staged sobriety in the permanent record. It is a beautiful, necessary lie we tell to protect the fragile system from its own heat.

The hallway screams are gone. Now we speak in slow, measured tones, cherishing the quiet performance of a recovery that hasn’t happened yet.